Girl in Love(27)

Suddenly every option in her entire wardrobe fell into two categories. Not sexy enough and trying too hard.

Standing in the center of her bedroom in her underwear, she texted Mia.

Meeting today. Pretty sure Trace will be there. Feeling a little nervous. Clothing suggestions?

She waited a few minutes and had almost given up and texted Lulu. But then the phone buzzed in her hand.

Wear good lingerie in case you guys do it in the parking lot afterwards.

Ignoring the excited panic that rose in her stomach, Kylie texted back.

You are not helpful.

Mia responded almost immediately.

Isn’t your BFF going to be your new stylist soon? Ask her.

Kylie sighed out loud. This was true. But she’d also made every effort to convince the whole world, with the exception of Mia—who’d seen her freak out firsthand—that her past involvement with Trace Corbin was a nonissue in her life. Admitting that she cared what she looked like around him seemed like a dead giveaway.

She stared at her closet once more. This was dumb. She was twenty years old and he’d seen her naked. She could pick out an outfit for a meeting.

After three changes of clothing, Kylie settled on a short navy blue dress, a cream-colored wrap, and brown knee-length riding boots. It was a little shorter and tighter than what she’d wear to a meeting if he weren’t going to be there, but it wasn’t an overtly obvious cry for attention. At least she hoped not.

The last thing she wanted to do was send mixed signals.

Not that she could even send clear signals, because she hadn’t exactly figured out what the message was for herself.





“WE’RE GOING to get one shot at convincing her that this is a good idea. Y’all know that right? Because once she makes up her mind, there won’t be any telling her otherwise. From anyone.” Trace made eye contact with Pauly, Maude, and Noel Davies.

“Leave it to me. I can handle her,” Noel informed him.

Trace barely held back a snort. Kylie Ryans was not the type to be “handled” by Noel Davies—or anyone else, for that matter.

Even Maude gave the Record Exec a doubtful smirk. “Again, if we just let her think it’s her idea, that it’s what’s best for her career, then none of us will have to convince her of anything.” The woman eyed each of them as if they were complete morons. “If any of you had half a brain, you’d bring her in here and tell her the label doesn’t like her new grown-up sound. That the only way to get fans on board is to have her tour with Trace and appear to be in a serious adult relationship with him. Present it as an opportunity instead of an ultimatum. It’s not that hard, boys.”

“It’s not that easy either,” a female voice broke in. “It’s the damnedest thing, but if I didn’t know better, I’d think I actually had a mind of my own and could just make decisions all by my lonesome.”

The sound of her voice, even her angry voice, softened something inside of Trace. For as steely as her solid glare at all of them was, he’d detected the note of hurt when she’d spoken. He met her stare and offered her an apologetic shrug. Like she’d said, she wasn’t the same girl. She knew how things worked now.

A part of him hated that. That she’d lost that wide-eyed innocence about the music business. That this was no longer a dream come true for her, but a job. A minefield to navigate.

“Kylie, we weren’t—” Noel Davies began before she cut him off.

“Yes you were. But that’s okay. I suspected I was walking into an ambush. Looks like it’s a perfect day for playing Manipulate the Bitchy Artist into Submission apparently.” She walked all the way into the room with her manager close behind. Trace nodded at him as they sat across the table.

“So where were we then?” Noel said, eyeing each occupant at the table. “No, you know what? This is so formal and unnecessary. How about we all head over to my office and sit comfortably so we can discuss this like civilized professionals?”

Trace shook his head. He knew what was up. This was Davies whipping out his dick and putting himself at the head of the table. He would show Kylie just how big and bad his office was, intimidate her with his power. He couldn’t stand by and watch that.

“I think we’re good here, Davies. How about we just get on with it?”

“Are we keeping you from something, Mr. Corbin?” Kylie asked, turning to him with raised brows and a look of feigned interest.

What the hell was her problem? He was trying to move things along without the dog and pony show. For her benefit. So much for chivalry.

“Okay. Since you’ve all decided to play hard-asses today, how about I just give it to everyone straight?” Davies cleared his throat and when no one interrupted, he continued. “The label has decided that the best way to launch Trace’s comeback and Kylie’s Not a Nice Girl album is to send both of you on an arena tour. You’ll both have The Other Side of Me on your next albums, so that’ll be the headline for the tour. One bus, some promos hinting that the two of you might be romantically involved, joint interviews, and then afterwards, you’re both free to do whatever you want.”